A Stopover in Toulouse

Wednesday, November 09, 2011 Eva 0 Comments

Leaving the southern region of Provence, we were making our way towards our base in the village of Monpazier with two days up our sleeves before we were due there.  We chose Toulouse as a short stopover, a halfway point between Arles in Provence and the house that we were going to be renting in the Dordogne in the south-west region of Aquitaine.


Canal locks, Beziers



Along the way to Toulouse we stopped in at the town of Beziers, in the Languedoc region, renowned for the Canal du Midi that passes by, a brilliant engineering marvel and World Heritage attraction. People gather along the stairway of canal locks and over little bridges to watch holidaymakers in house boats make the journey down Fontseranes, a series of nine locks.  Picnicking by the side of the canal we could only but smile as boaties heave-hoed on mooring ropes as each lock slowly drained of water and released the boats into the next lock.  Having tried our hand at house-boating several years prior down the Canal du Midi during a very wet windy spring week, we realised that we weren’t cut out for this watery pastime.  In two days we had managed to get the boat through more than 30 locks and there were 30 more to go. Max valiantly trying to steer a wayward boat (after a 5 minute training session that came with the hire boat) and me jumping on and off through pouring rain to either haul the boat in for mooring or to unleash the ropes, was far too arduous for only the two of us.  But we were more than happy to watch others doing it this time and I offered to photograph the Aussie boaties for them as they posed while working the ropes.

Once more, lack of research on our part before arriving in Toulouse meant that we wouldn’t be popping into a museum of any kind associated with the French Impressionist painter Toulouse-Lautrec, the man of the Moulin Rouge and dancing hall poster-fame.  Oops, wrong city.  No, his museum was located in his birthplace, the town of Albi an hour’s drive out of Toulouse.  Nor could we visit what Toulouse was famous for – its aeronautic industry, aka the Airbus factory. For security reasons tours require bookings two weeks in advance.  As consolation it was lucky for us that the hotel had a pool, a good way to pass the time in warm weather, and Space City, an aerospace museum that was nearby and AVAILABLE.  Here, a large landscaped park is filled with space rockets and a replica of the Russian Mir Space Station (how the heck did those astronauts live in such a small cramped capsule for so long?).  There’s also a planetarium, various theatres and interactive displays.  Aeronautical paraphernalia, we figured, were a nice change from architectural and historical sights-fatigue.
Practising my Russian Euro-pose
in front of the Mir Space Station, Toulouse

Space City, below

Leaving Toulouse two days later for the village of Monpazier, in the Dordogne, we set out via Albi to finally see the works of the talented, height-challenged painter.  It was well worth the detour.  In the town's centre, Albi is graced with half-timbered buildings that are dwarfed by the huge Cathedrale Sainte Cecile that towers majestically over the town.  Le Musee Toulouse-Lautrec is in a stunning historical setting.  The pinkish-red bricked Palais de la Berbie, once upon a time housing the bishops of Albi from the 13th century onwards, now houses many of Lautrec’s prints and artworks.  Outside, beautiful manicured gardens overlook the Tarn River way below.


Palais de la Berbie now houses the Toulouse-Lautrec museum
So, onward then to the Dordogne’s southern gourmet epicentre we went.  We drove a long time, even though distance-wise it wasn’t really that far away.  Miss Moneypenny, our GPS system, turned our 2 ½ drive from Albi into a 4 hour long distance marathon.  Over hill, dell and dale our little black Peugeot rolled on.  She knows where she’s going and we don’t so we’ll put our full trust in her, we reasoned.
Cathedrale Sainte Cecile, Albi

Just as we neared large autoroutes the digital voice would steer us parallel to these highways then whisk us down winding country roads where we’d sit fuming on the tail of hay-laden tractors that were impossible to overtake on the bends.  Had I programmed the GPS to select France’s most scenically smallest roads? A re-check of the system - fastest time, shortest distance or eco-route - confirmed that I’d selected shortest distance.  Changing the GPS to fastest time to get there took us further down smaller and tighter roads.  Under the sunroof of our car, exasperation levels peaked when Max refused to cross a farm property down a gravel road that Moneypenny had directed the car to go. That put her into another one of her hissy fits - then a short silence as she recalculated more of her dastardly routes all the way to our destination.

View of Albi and the River Tarn

Okay, so we got to see some pretty villages and bucolic pastures along the way but on arrival here at Monpazier I made the decision to put her into temporary retirement during our three week stay in the Perigord.  In other words, she was fired and I forged an intimate alliance with our Michelin road atlas.  A much more trustworthy partnership.

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